Denouement
by YumeZoe
Summary: Sometimes when you have lost everyone and everything, all it takes is a friendly face with an open heart to get you back on your feet. Spoilers for 9x10 and 9x12


_Spoilers for 9x10 Face the Raven and potential spoilers for 9x12 Hell Bent. Turn back if you want to go in spoiler free._

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 _Cause my echo, echo is the only voice coming back_

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 _For Lazy Cat- the greatest Clara fan I know._

 _Disclaimer: Don't own Doctor Who. If I did, it wouldn't be half as good as it is._

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The diner was full of people chattering away happily, but the Doctor ignored them.

He sat alone at a table, his eyes fixed on the Elvis mural. Four years prior to now, he would have been enjoying a picnic before he was shot dead by River Song. Only now did he wonder if maybe he should have let her kill him for real. It would have ended all of his suffering.

Clara was gone. She was killed right in front of him, her soul taken away to wherever. Then Gallifrey, the Time Lords and the Sisterhood of Karn happened. The Doctor had lost everything. Was it worth it to continue travelling?

He lost everyone in the end. They either left him, he left them or they died. He didn't know why he kept taking them on. They always broke his heart in the end. His age came crashing down on him and he sighed resignedly.

He sensed the approaching waitress and glimpsed at the deep blue dress she was sporting but otherwise ignored her. Maybe she would take one glance at his eyebrows and know to leave him alone.

"Can I take your order?"

The voice was younger and less battle weary than he was used to, but he recognised it, he always recognised it. He looked up and her perfect face, her wide saucer-wide eyes and chestnut brown hair and cursed the universe for being so cruel.

"What?" she asked nervously. "What is it?"

"Nothing," he said quickly, his voice gruffer than he intended. She didn't look perturbed though, just curious. "It's just that I've noticed you have a very wide face. Do you need three mirrors?"

She tilted her head and looked at him strangely. "Okay…"

"Oh, that was rude, wasn't it?" he sighed, smiling thinly. "That's always me- rude and not ginger."

She giggled, not nervously. It sounded genuinely and reminded him of her laugh. It sounded like Heaven. He never realised how much he missed that laugh. It hadn't been that long since he had lost her, but it felt like forever.

"I heard you playing." She said, gesturing towards the guitar that lay next to him on the floor. The Doctor looked down, having completely forgotten about it. He remembered playing on it. He looked at the object solemnly. He didn't really have the motivation to play it again.

"Nice song. It sounded sad. Is it a sad song?"

He smiled at her sadly.

"Nothing's sad till it's over. Then everything is." He told her. Her eyes shone with laughter and the Doctor's hearts skipped a beat. He missed her so much.

"What's it called?" she asked. He paused. He didn't have a name for it, it just sort of happened. Pondering for a moment, he finally came to a conclusion. He smiled. What else could it possibly be?

"I think it's called Clara."

Her smile widened. To his great surprise, she sat down in the seat next to him and smiled. His hearts panged at the sight. How fitting was it that he found exactly what he needed? Someone who was not her but was at the same time?

"Tell me about her." She urged, smiling eagerly. The Doctor smiled warmly at her.

"Are you sure? It's quite a dangerous tale."

"What's wrong with dangerous?" she cooed and the Doctor's smiled widened. All around him, the colours of the universe seemed to shine brighter. "Go on then, tell me the name of the story. Tell me her name."

So the Doctor did. He sat down with her and told her the mystical tale of a Clara Oswald, the perfect girl from Blackpool who had wanted to see 101 places and ended up saving so much more. She had listened attentively. She probably didn't understand or even believe a word of it but she didn't show it.

Meanwhile, outside in the chilly winter air, unnoticed by the pair, an aged leaf finally finished its turbulent descent and gently floated onto the ground to rest.

The story is done.

 _Fin._

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 **A/N:** Holy crap, Clara's death has hit me like a steamroller and beyond, but somebody else had taken this harder than me and I had to do something about it. Here you are Ruth/Lazy! I hope I have made you feel a little better!

Writing the rest of _The Story of Amelia Jessica Pond_ continues. I'm just going to take a break and mourn Clara for a while…and maybe fit in a tribute in there somehow.


End file.
